A flat line held on the heart monitor.
Beep—
George stared at the display and seemed to realize something. One hand moved to his chest by reflex.
His heart had stopped.
But he was still alive.
Obviously—
From this moment on, George was no longer Captain George of the 21st Precinct; he was the 21st Precinct's vampire captain, George.
Gwen glanced instinctively at Hawk.
Meeting her eyes, Hawk gave a faint nod.
Gwen drew a sharp breath, then looked at George on the bed, his palm on his chest, his expression blank with shock.
"Dad—"
Thud!
The night-shift doctor burst through the door, panting.
Then—
He looked at Hawk and Gwen on their feet, then at George sitting on the bed and staring hollowly at him, and finally at the shrieking monitor. His mouth twitched.
The next second—
He said nothing, went straight to the machine, silenced the alarm, powered it off, and headed for the door. At the threshold he turned back, exasperated. "Holding your breath for fun? We're busy."
With that—
He walked out, brushing past two responding officers, scowling.
The two officers, seeing George upright and unharmed, exhaled as one. One of them looked to Hawk.
"Mr. Phoenix?"
"That's me."
"There's a Ms. Katherine Pierce downstairs. Says you asked her to come."
"Right."
Hawk's eyes lit. "She's here?"
The officer nodded, lifted his radio, and, while exiting with his partner, notified the team handling the lockdown.
Downstairs, an officer crossed the lobby to the woman waiting just behind the tape.
"You can go up."
"Thanks."
Katherine smiled, thanked him, and walked into the inpatient tower.
Soon—
The elevator arrived.
Ding!
Katherine stepped out and barely needed to look for the room. Following the lingering scent of vampires—and the fresh scent of a newly turned one—she found George Stacy's room with ease.
The two officers at the door exchanged a glance and opened it.
Katherine thanked them again, stepped in, and immediately saw the newborn vampire on the bed, face ashen.
Then her eyes went to Hawk.
"Mr. Phoenix."
"Hawk," he corrected with a smile. "You're Gwen's friend, so you're my friend. Did you get the daylight ring?"
He didn't know whether Katherine's first "chance" meeting with Gwen at the mall had truly been chance.
He didn't need to.
Judge by acts, not motives. Whatever Katherine's reasons, Gwen didn't dislike her—in fact, she'd folded Katherine into her little shopping squad.
So—
Gwen's friend was his friend.
Katherine nodded and took a daylight ring from her pocket.
Before she could speak, Gwen had already hugged her. "Thank you."
Gwen had been wondering how Hawk looped Katherine in; the moment she heard "daylight ring," she understood. After the quick hug, she took the ring and hurried to the bed.
She thought it looked a little small—until it touched George's finger, widened on its own, and fitted perfectly.
In the next instant—
George's pupils snapped tight. He glanced down again at the hand on his chest.
Simple reason:
He felt it—his heart, which had just stopped, thumped to life again.
Daylight rings, forged by witches, not only let vampires walk in the sun; they also restore a living heartbeat and body warmth.
Back in the days of the Inquisition—
Witches were burned.
Vampires were burned, too. That's why they ended up allied.
George looked at the ring on the finger of his left hand—the thing that had given him his heartbeat back.
"This is…?"
"A daylight ring," Gwen explained. "Dad, with this, you don't have to fear sunlight. And Mom and everyone else won't notice you've become a vampire."
George raised his eyes to her.
Gwen's face was taut with worry, a hint of pleading in her gaze.
Their eyes held.
Hawk, watching, turned slightly to Katherine and spoke low. "Crimson Apocalypse—it seems like a vampire-worship cult. Heard of it?"
Katherine blinked. "Crimson Apocalypse?"
"Yeah."
"No."
She shook her head. "But finding them won't be hard."
She knew New York—though most of that familiarity belonged to the last century.
This time around, she hadn't been as reckless as before.
Because Hawk was in New York.
She'd spent most of her time gathering the assets she'd stashed around the Federation over the centuries, liquidated a good bit, and bought a place near Palm Street.
Closer to Hawk—so if the Original, Klaus, showed up without "honor," she could run to Hawk first.
She truly didn't know this "Crimson Apocalypse."
But that was fine.
She did know a few vampire gathering spots in the city.
If Crimson Apocalypse had ties to New York's vampire underbelly—
She could find them fast.
And it was an opportunity.
Smart girls make the first move.
So—
"Once I find them, I'll contact you immediately?" she asked Hawk.
Hawk glanced at Gwen still locked in a silent gaze with George and nodded. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Katherine gave him a sunny smile, spared a quick look for Gwen without interrupting, then turned and left.
When she'd gone, Hawk coughed softly, drawing Gwen's eyes—then looked at George, who seemed hollowed out inside.
"Gwen."
"Mm?"
"Later we should go to Howard and Simon's school, withdraw them, and enroll them in public."
"Uh… what?"
Gwen blinked at the sudden turn.
George looked up too.
Hands in his pockets, Hawk went on, "Oh, and that apartment where Helen, Simon, and Howard are living—call a realtor first thing. Better to sell than let the court auction it when you can't pay next year's property tax."
Gwen's confusion lasted a heartbeat; then she caught on and played along.
"Why wouldn't we be able to pay? Dad's salary and the department stipend cover it easily."
"Salaries are for the living. What if George doesn't want to live?"
"…If you can't say something helpful, don't. Dad wants to live."
She rolled her eyes at Hawk, then looked to George at the head of the bed. "Right, Dad?"
George said nothing. He looked at Hawk.
"See?"
"He didn't answer."
"So—face it. Sell what should be sold. Give the cash to Helen for retirement. If it comes to it, Howard and Simon can enter foster care."
"I'm not taking that on."
"If you insist on taking it on, I'll have to reconsider whether we're getting married."
"Because—"
"Being a sibling-doormat is terrifying."
"…"
Hawk ignored George's stare and kept talking; when he said "terrifying," the fear on his face looked painfully genuine.
Because it was.
As everyone knows—
Being a doormat for freeloading siblings is indeed terrifying.
At that moment—
George spoke, voice as deep and severe as ever. "Hawk, you don't need to goad me."
"Goad?"
Hawk blinked, then smiled. "I'm not goading you. If you won't shoulder your own family, why would I rush to shoulder what's yours?"
George's face didn't move. "I won't ask you to."
Gwen stood taut and anxious. "Dad…"
"Relax."
George came back to himself, smiled at her, then—under her watchful eyes—peeled off the leads, swung his feet carefully to the floor, and embraced her with controlled gentleness.
"How could I ever leave you and your mother?"
"Dad!"
Gwen hugged him tight, glanced at Hawk, and gave him a big thumbs-up with those emerald eyes that did all the talking.
Hawk smiled faintly.
Just then, the door opened again. One of the officers at the door stepped in with a phone. "Captain, a Ben Urich is on the line—says he's a friend."
George arched a brow, reached for the phone—then checked himself abruptly.
Hawk took the handset, nodded thanks to the officer, waited for the door to shut, switched it to speaker, and set it before George.
George cut a side-eye at the man who'd claimed he'd dump Gwen if George chose death, then focused on the phone. After a moment's framing, he spoke low.
"This is George Stacy."
"Captain Stacy—good. Sounds like you've recovered."
The voice was young, but with an old, rasped undertone, like an elderly man speaking through a youthful throat. Wrong.
George frowned. "Who are you? Where's Ben?"
"I am… heh. Captain Stacy, we're the same kind now. Don't you know who we are?"
"…Vampires."
His voice was low, angry. "Did you turn Ben, too?"
A chuckle came down the line. "Yes, we're vampires.
"We had no choice—since you wouldn't stop hounding us.
"You wanted a culprit—we gave you one. You weren't satisfied. So we had to grant your wish."
"Ben Urich is smarter than you."
"But only a little."
"He investigated us in secret—but we knew. He never reached out for help, so we didn't bother with him."
"Until now."
"You gave us a headache, Captain."
"But—"
"We admire you. We'd even like to be friends. Rest easy—Ben Urich isn't a vampire."
The man's voice drifted, then turned. "But whether he lives or dies depends on you, Captain Stacy."
George's face darkened. He skipped the nonsense. "What do you want?"
"We want to be friends, of course. Don't be angry—becoming a vampire is a prize many in your department would kill for. We gave it to you freely."
It wasn't untrue.
Why do vampire myths endure—and dominate Hollywood?
Because people like them.
Again—
Vampires come with side effects. But dodge those, and foremost you get an ageless face and endless life.
So—
Those who like, worship, or even wish to join vampires far outnumber those who hate and would purge them.
From a certain angle, the vampire wasn't wrong.
To most people, becoming a vampire is a gift. They'd "gifted" it to George.
But—
George was not "most people."
"Most" chase immortality. George sees immortality as a curse.
He was a Catholic.
He sought justice partly from duty, but also because he believed that if he held to justice, he would enter Heaven when he died.
There, with Helen, he would be an angel—forever by God's side.
And now—
He was a vampire.
Heaven? Dream on. Go to Hell—VIP section.
So his heart detonated.
He had, a moment ago, seriously considered suicide.
But it wasn't Hawk who talked him down.
It was the knowledge that suicide is a sin—and sinners go to Hell too.
Most of all—
He saw the plea in Gwen's eyes, and heard that mangy Hawk say if he dared die, he'd break up with his precious daughter. That finally killed the idea.
Now one thought burned in George's mind—
Maybe this was God's test.
Yes.
A test.
God made a devout believer into the vilest thing—not because George had erred, but to test him.
God didn't let him die—that meant it wasn't his time.
In that case—
He would drag the vampires from New York's shadows, one by one, and in God's name, wipe them out.
George's eyes flickered. He looked at the phone in Hawk's hand. "All right. We're friends. Let Ben go."
The vampire laughed. "Captain Stacy, that's not friendship. We've granted you unprecedented power. In return, you should grant us something."
"What do you want?"
"This all began with you; it should end with you. As for your wife's death—I apologize. But you will personally put a period on that tragedy. Someone will come forward and confess. When you close the case with your own hand, then we can meet."
"…"
George's pupils tightened. He was about to lose control when the door opened.
Helen came in from the surgical wing. Seeing George on his feet, she opened her mouth on instinct.
George saw it and shouted over her.
"Fine!"
Crack!
Hawk arched a brow at the phone, smashed to pieces in his palm by George's slap.
At the same time—
Helen's voice followed, shocked and breathless. "Holy— George, your wounds—"
"I'm fine."
George caught her hands as she reached to push him back to bed, then his gaze slid over her and froze on a very familiar bullet hole in the chest of her coat.
"That—"
"This…"
Helen followed his eyes to the hole and remembered. She took a bullet from her pocket—the one that had "apparently" fallen out of her.
George, doing his best to contain unfamiliar strength, took the bullet carefully and looked at Helen.
"This is—"
"I don't know."
She shook her head, perplexed.
"I remember someone came in, shot me in the chest, and I died."
"But—"
"I think… I came back."
…
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For +20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!][[email protected]/euridome]
[Thank You For Your Support!]